


in the air, in the walls

by QueenCee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Winchester (2018)
Genre: But isn't everything?, Doctor!Draco, Drarry, Ghosts, Haunted House, Horror, It's kinda a single dad au with ghosts, It's mostly purple prose and self indulgent, M/M, Referenced Mental Illness, Referenced Violent Death, Referenced suicide, Violence, Winchester (2018) AU, Winchester Mystery House, single dads, this is going to be kinda ~spooky~ you've been warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 22:51:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19799395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCee/pseuds/QueenCee
Summary: Dr. Draco Malfoy is sent to the infamous Potter House to assess the mental state of grieving widow Lily Potter of behalf of the Potter Repeating Arms Company. The house itself is as much as a maze as its puzzling owner and window's son, Harry Potter, only adds to the mystery Draco is faced with as he tries to unravel the secrets of the home.A Winchester (2018) Drarry AU starring Lily Potter as Sara Winchester. There's ghosts. There's a curse. There are children in peril. Hopefully it'll be rad.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Winchester (2018) for being the beautiful disaster of a film you are. This is mostly going to be tiny chapters because I don't have the energy or time to devote to long beautiful masterpieces. If you were looking for length or consistency you are barking up the wrong fic. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr @ candide-apples, I post mostly aesthetics.

The storm blew, howling as if the very Earth itself were cursing some unknown assailant. Trees bowed, bending their necks down and losing their leaves in the process. Dogs, somewhere, howled at every clap of thunder, every bolt of lightning. The rain pelted the ground in sheets, obscuring the vision of even the most discerning eye to but a few feet before it. 

The house stood still, unwavering against the assault, as most houses do. Despite this, the house was not like most houses. While, of course, the house stood still and strong, there was something else happening. The sinew of the vast, sprawling construction seemed to stretch, to reach for every flash of lightning, to revel in each thunderous crash. It was as if there was this vast undercurrent, a movement that couldn’t quite be pinned down, couldn’t quite be traced with the eye. At the center of all this stood Lily Potter, dressed in her mourning black, staring out onto the grounds. 

She was not alone. 

Even now she could hear them, whispers, words, speaking over the thunder and through the rain. Build. She needed to build. Below on the grounds men continued working, even though the storm soaked through to their skin. 

She frowned. She hadn’t meant for it to be like this, but it was too late to stop now. Stopping the work wasn’t worth it in the end. People got hurt. People had already been hurt and Lily didn’t want that resting on her conscience. She couldn’t take anymore. 

She lowered her veil and headed back to the table. There was work to be done. She wasn’t exempt from that. She picked up the pencil that sat before her and something else moved her hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry Potter and children enter the game. I have never read the Cursed Child and also refuse to believe it exists so don't come here expecting that characterization.

The house loomed above him and Harry Potter stared up at it. This was not the house he grew up in. That house was long since demolished, gone when his father passed away and his mother retreated from the city, taking with her the last physical remainders of his childhood. 

He tried not to feel too upset over it. He was grown now. His children stood around him. James, the oldest, was nearly eleven. Lily Luna, the youngest, was barely three. Albus stood in the middle, both physically and age-wise. He regarded the house with more skepticism than the other two deigned to give it. Harry wasn’t sure whether to be concerned or proud. 

It wasn’t that Harry believed in ghosts. He didn’t. But he also believed that his mother wasn’t crazy. Even in her grief, she was solid, stable. She handled his father’s passing with the grace of a woman that had to get things done, with the weight of an entire company on her back. 

It wasn’t a company that either of his parents had ever really wanted. His father inherited the Potter Repeating Arms Company from his father, who had never really been involved with it either. It held their name and not much else. But, as the majority shareholders, the Potter family had done their best to push diversity into the company. 

The only problem was, more people were interested in the guns. 

Despite Lily Potter’s strength, he knew his mother had taken his father’s passing hard. Everyone had taken his father’s passing hard. James Potter Sr. was the sort of person who could bring the unlikeliest of people together. He was charismatic. He was intelligent. It was impossible not to love him. It had been ten long years and still, people were mourning. It was the kind of death that people don’t forget. James Potter cast a very long shadow. Harry could only hope to live up to it. 

That’s why he was here. The house was... unnerving. The long, twisting passages, the stairs that went to nowhere, the rooms that went up, then down, then rearranged, then torn down again. It was all so uncharacteristic of his mother. Over the years, he tried to understand, tried to chalk it up to an eccentricity in her older age. 

But things were starting to get a little ridiculous. At its tallest, the Potter House was seven stories high. Harry had no idea how far below it went. There were greenhouses and ballrooms and secret passages and doors. His mother designed it all herself. There were workers around the clock, day and night, all working towards some goal that was never truly finished. Even now, with storm clouds rolling overhead, they were hard at work. 

Harry was worried about his mother. 

“Dad,” James finally asked, holding Lily Luna’s bear for her while the help carried their things inside, “How long are we staying here at grandmum’s?” 

Harry adjusted Lily Luna on his hip and ruffled James’s hair. “A while,” he said, glancing sidelong at one of the harried butlers as he busied past, “Maybe until school starts again. We’ll have to see.” 

Lily Luna started fussing from her nap in the carriage. Albus looked at his father, skeptical, “I don’t think I want to stay here,” he said, looking over at James for confirmation, “It’s creepy.” 

“Well!” James piped up, eager to smooth things over, “Maybe it’ll be like an adventure.” 

“I guess so,” Albus answered, glancing back over to the house, “An adventure.” 

Inside the house, something shivered.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally, it's Draco and Scorpius's turn to be introduced. I posted the first three of these all together. I'll get around to writing and posting more soon, probably.

“That should cover your initial expenses, Mr. Malfoy,” Peter Pettigrew said, moping the sweat off his brow and handing over a handful of bills. 

“Doctor,” Draco corrected, taking the money and placing inside his case. The carriage gave a lurch as it hit yet another pothole leaving down. He reached over and squeezed his son’s knee, who was staring out the window wistfully. 

“Of course, Dr. Malfoy,” Pettigrew scrambled, trying to cover up his distress. And poorly doing so, Draco thought, as the small man wrung his hands. “And, of course, the rest of your fee will be paid once your conclude your findings on Mrs. Potter.” Draco gave a slow nod in response. Pettigrew licked his lips and continued, “The board would also like to add that an additional sum could be added, give a erm – favorable outcome, of course.” 

Draco narrowed his eyes. He didn’t particularly like Mr. Pettigrew. Granted, he didn’t like a vast number of people, but he held a particular disdain for those who believed that the “right” diagnosis could be bought. Of course, there were some doctors for whom that would be true. Dr. Malfoy was not among them. “I will report whatever I find,” he said, shortly, refusing to break eye contact, “And nothing else.” 

Pettigrew flubbed for an answer and, finding none, merely gulped and nodded. Draco relaxed and sat back, content to ignore the man for the rest of the trip. He looked over at Scorpius and frowned. He didn’t generally take extended house calls nor would he usually take his son along with him, but since his wife died, well. He just didn’t feel comfortable leaving Scoprius anywhere else but his side. Certainly not in the care of his own parents. His mother was fine, of course, but his father’s influence was upsetting at best, damaging at worst. 

It would be fine, he reassured himself. Mr. Pettigrew assured him that there was more than enough room at the Potter House. Mrs. Potter’s grandchildren were even staying there. Perhaps he would have someone to play with. And if not, there were still books and grounds and the sorts of things little boys got into trouble with. 

He closed his eyes, hoping to get some rest before the work began. And yet, there sat that feeling, that worry, that something wasn’t quite right. He took a breath and forced himself to relax. He was sure it was nothing.


End file.
